In The Heavens, A Fire Seen
by xahra99
Summary: Written for the 2009 apocalyptothon for the prompt: Rorschach and Nite Owl in New York against the zombie hordes. Complete.


In The Heavens, A Fire Seen

A Watchmen fan fiction by xahra99

"After there is great trouble along mankind, a greater one is prepared...In the heavens, a fire seen."

Nostradamus.

For misachan's request as part of the apocalyptothon lj challenge

Rorschach's Journal

September 14th,1972. 9 a.m:

Woke up in the rubble. Soviets attacked without warning, took the entire world by surprise. This entire city is in its final, screaming death throes. Daniel still out there. Alone. Have to find him. Have to find him before they do.

Left apartment to find car buried in wall. No doubt cause of roof's collapse. Ford. Steam gouting from the smashed radiator. Scent of burned rubber and brick dust. No sign of landlady. Perhaps trapped in rubble. Could care less.

Outside it is midday. Wind whips at the collar of my coat. The city shows its true face. Corpse in street. Face turned away, grey brain matter mixing with chipped tarmac. Guts soft like cream cheese. Screaming girl runs by, pursued by man.

Hm. Soviets uglier than I imagined.

Daniel's apartment not far away. Took three real threat. Did not respond to garrotte. Forced to bludgeon them to death with tire iron stolen from open trunk of Ford. More screaming. No more than they deserved.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 14th,1972. 2 p.m:

Daniel safe. Threat worse than anticipated. Not Soviets after all. Daniel calls them zombies. Dark forces. Veidt's meddling again, no doubt. When will he stop toying with powers that he does not understand? Daniel has boarded up most of the windows. The zombies scrabble at the shutters. Saliva drips through cracks in the wood. Daniel warns me not to touch it. Does he think I am mad? Can hear screaming. Several streets away a car alarm blares monotonously. Zombies growl like rabid animals. Screaming stops. Alarm stops. Zombies keep on growling. Would have preferred Soviets.

News broadcast on TV. Dreiberg watches while I go through his cupboards. Well stocked with baked beans. We shall not starve. The presenters' faces are glossy with makeup, but their eyes are scared. Tell us all is fine. TV obviously controlled by pinko liberal intellectuals. They lie. All is not fine. We must fight back.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 15th, 1972. 6 p.m:

Zombies have barricaded us in. Attacking house. Faces twisted, rotting, distorted. Vermin, nothing more. Climbed out through roof. Zombies have infested hangar, blocking access to Daniel's owl ship, costumes and weapons. Daniel is disappointed. Refers to ship as 'Archie'. Naming inanimate objects is a sign of weakness. All the same I regret loss of owl ship. Would have been useful. No matter. Zombies crash through the windows. Their skin seems indifferent to broken glass. Hack them up with kitchen cleaver. Putrid blood sprays over walls, floor, ceiling. Zombies are strong in numbers but individually they are weak. Daniel draws parallell to human condition. Regret that I do not agree.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 15th, 1972. 11 p.m:

Zombies have not found us yet. It is lucky that Daniel's flat adjoins other buildings. We escaped aross the roof. Roof like last ship in sea of burning, flailing city. In the heavens, a fire seen. Sky red with flame like blood. Zombies char but others follow like dogs scenting fresh meat. We kill many, but there are always others. New building unsatisfactory. No food left. Think that we shall not survive long enough to starve. Saw one surviver. Zombies hunted her down. Watched her die from rooftop. Did nothing. Not pleasant. Zombies tear shreds of meat from bones with long yellow teeth. When nothing left, went back inside. Dreiberg turned on TV. Veidt. Coiffed, Unruffled. Denying all responsibility. No surprise there. Will zombies track him to his lair? Hope so. Will not be long now.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 16th, 1972. 4 a.m:

Slept longer than anticipated despite threat of zombie cannibalism. Daniel still awake. TV sceen reflects from his glasses. No news now. Presenters dead or ran. Cowards. The screen shows static and all the channels are threat now nationwide. But Daniel has a plan. Head to military facility. Find Silk Spectre. Indestructible Man. Persuade US Army to shelter us in times of need. Daniel lusts after Laurie and thinks that she will save , but cannot see any other are needy red outside. Learned rhyme when I was small. Sky red in morning, shepherds warning. Sky is telling us not to go. But we have no choice.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 16th , 1972. 8 a.m:

Air thick with smoke, Daniel struggling. Unfit. Zombies relentless. Tire iron thick with blood and gore.

Pass my old maildrop near the diner. Windows shattered. Customers gone. Trashcan pulled from its base and thrown across the street. Rubbish and bloodsoaked papers spilled out over the pavement. A severed hand lies in the rubble, clutching a half-empty bottle of beer. The liquid inside is dark and clouded. The city has talked to me for years now, but her last message is one even a child could understand. My city is dying.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 16th, 1972. 12 noon:

Should not be long now. Six miles from facility. No sign of military. No sound of guns. The chorus of the city is different now. Screams mixed with groans mixed with crashing of window glass and the roar of the flames. Last waltz. Zombies gurgle like water swirling down a plughole. They are troglodytes. Subhuman. Feel nothing but contempt for them as I split their soft greying skulls and yank their tattered hair out in clumps. Daniel says we should head for a mall. Why? Makes no sense. We shall continue on.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 16th, 1972. 2 p.m:

Holed up in abandoned factory. Plastic parts swing on assembly lines above our heads. Daniel cannot go any closing in. He is bleeding. Arrived too late. Act already done. Fear he has been bitten. Rolls up his shirt to show me tooth marks on his arms. Two neat half-moons. Transformation startling. Last words, 'Find Laurie.' I do what must be done. It is not easy. Blood spatters my coat like faucet. Coats my gloves in patterns like my face. Blood of a friend. Patterns make no sense. Why? Where is Manhattan? Where is Laurie? Comedian, Moloch? Where is Veidt? This is no way to die.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 16th, 1972. 6 p.m:

Out of all of us, Daniel least deserved a violent death. He was are no roses in this ugly, dying city. I hid his body neatly under a sheet of corrugated iron before leaving the like the right thing to do. But there is no right any more. Only death.

Tried Daniel's plan. No good. Reached facility. Pounded on chain link fence. His blood still on my hands. No bolt is quiet inside. No guns. No shooting. No Laurie. No Manhattan. Where are they? Have to admit survival seems unlikely at this point. I am alone.

Rorschach's Journal.

September 16th, 1972. 8 p.m:

A dark September night. At last it comes. Teeth sink into my leg. The damage is done. I beat them away and they slink off, quiescent now. Almost peaceful, the knowing. This will be my last entry. I think it will be soon. Can feel the change. It is coming. Remember us.

Rorschach.


End file.
